


Ain't No Con

by crickets



Series: Names and Curses [2]
Category: Lost
Genre: Incest, Multi, jawyercita, mmf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-05
Updated: 2007-05-05
Packaged: 2017-10-02 03:53:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crickets/pseuds/crickets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Five Ways the Island Changed Sawyer)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ain't No Con

**Author's Note:**

> [Original post](http://crickets.livejournal.com/51952.html).

**1.  
There Are Some Memories He Doesn’t Want to Forget**

Sawyer never really missed anybody his whole life. Now, maybe that’s some kind of lie he used to tell him self so he could sleep better at night, but these days he doesn’t think so. Not even his mama. Course, he never really knew her all that well either, come to think of it.

But now, some nights, when he’s alone, or even when he’s not, he thinks of her, her freckled nose, the taste of berries, that way she never let him get away with nothing, infuriating and comforting all at once.

And when he looks at the doc sometimes, he sees in his dark eyes that same far off look, and knows that he misses her too.

And maybe, just maybe, she’s the thing that binds them together.

**2.  
He Ain’t Got Cause For Complaints**

It starts with just him and doc. The kid sister is just a tagalong, childless mother, don’t want to go home, ‘cause she’s not got much of one anyway. And he can’t deny that she’s something special to the both of them.

They try to be quiet; hot breaths mingling as he presses his hips into Jack’s, but it ain’t like she’s stupid or something.

Mornings, she gives them looks with their toast, fingers brushing against his in that teasing way he recognizes and it almost seems like she’s happy about the whole damn thing. Delighted, even.

’Til one night she slips through the crack in the door, and under the sheets and before he knows it he’s sandwiched between them, and even though his mind tells him there’s something very, very wrong with this, the rest of his parts disagree.

And it isn’t like it’s ever mattered to him what was right before, anyhow.

**3.  
Right Between Them’s A Home Enough**

It’s because of him the three of them are always on the move, with the lawman always a step behind. They’re not after him now, but him before – the one he doesn’t know any better than these dusty back roads they drive.

So they move, find someplace that’ll have them long enough for Doc to get a job that don’t pay near enough what his hands are worth.

_Jacks hands,_ pulling at the both of them, finding their way between them as Sawyer catches Claire’s bottom lip between his teeth.

They don’t seem to mind the road, and the truth is he doesn’t either, not anymore. ‘Cause right between them’s a home enough.

 

**4.  
He Still Cons, Just Not Everybody Anymore**

Sure, he’d stop conning if he thought the law would ever stop chasing him. But it’s hard to keep your head down when the dead come back to life.

No, they’ll never stop coming. And so when times are tough, when Jack’s hands don’t earn their keep, because there’s not much market for a traveling spinal surgeon, he pulls smalltime gigs, just to get them to the next town, the next job.

He teaches Claire, apt a pupil as he’s ever seen. And it reminds him of another time, a time when his intentions weren’t so pure. But now they’re just about as pure as a conman can get, her blue eyes sparkling back at him, and he knows that he’d do anything for her, for them.

And that ain’t no con.

**5\.   
Vengeance Ain’t His Master**

He used to hold on to things, bad memories, and grudges, grip them like a vice, squeeze ‘til he was blue. That was all before he realized who it was he was choking – not some innocent guy in a back alley in Sydney, not some monster in a slave ship in the jungle, but his own self – James Ford.

He’s the only one who can ever pay the price for his sins.

Now there’s forgiveness. And they, the doc and his sister, gave that to him. He finally learned how it works. And every morning when he wakes up, legs entwined with theirs, he’s lighter and lighter.

Every now and then she’s got to steady his hand, blonde wisps brushing his wrist as her lips press into his cracked palm. But even in these moments spent on the edge he knows – vengeance ain’t his master, not anymore and not ever again.


End file.
